The Run.

:2thumbsup: :hurray: :sunny:

 

SEPTEMBER, 1885.


The large crowd was mostly sitting under some canvases that had been strung up with rope tied to stakes sunk in the ground to keep them tight. They had been set up in the yard of the Stringtown Grange hall. It was mid september and the afternoon sun could still be remindful of the summer heat, which occasionally reached one thirteen. The laughter died down from the gathered crowd somewhat, as the reminiscences were recounted concerning the events of five years ago, September of 1879. Easy to laugh now, but when the town was almost lost to explosion and fire, it was seriously considered off limits for levity. Half the residents had been relieved that the lawless element that had wreaked havoc on the town with murder and mayhem were dealt with in any manner, including getting blown up. The other half, feeling that they had almost lost the town along with a few of their homes being burned out, were bound and determined to bring swift justice to whomever blew up the Blue Dog. The music then became prevalent again over the stories that were now being told after the half decade that had passed since the incident, And they were being told with great gusto. Some of the folks were outside dancing to the music from the local musicians.

"Most everyone in town who wasn't infirm and could help save the houses and businesses that had been set alight, were in the park in the late afternoon after most everything had died down," said one long time resident named John Stark. We were trying to figure out how in hell the Dog had just exploded like it did. I forget who was up in front of the crowd doing the talkin', but Becky came walkin'up and stood in the back of the tired crowd and was listening to all the palaverin'. The smell of smoke and burnt material was pervasive. A few people had known that she was responsible, but they weren't talking." He looked over at Josh, Karla and Lonnie who were seated up front as sort of honored guests, with a grin. They shuffled around on their seats some and grinned back.

"Well, hell. Everyone in Lemoore knew Becky Pearson--er Hays now--and knew that she was well nigh capable of --of --let's put it this way--damn near anything!!" The laughter picked back up some and folks began to nod their heads and agree that --yeah--that was about right. "So John sees her in back there and pretty soon he calls out to her, " Now Becky, I don't want you to get all het up here, but I gotta ask. Did you have something to do with --uh--blowin'up the Dog and the hellacious fire that resulted?"

She ups and says " Somethin' to do with it? No. I had everything to do with it." "Well, as most of you may recall, that set some in the crowd to hollerin 'and carryin'on about bringin' some justice down on her or what they figured would be justice. Anyone that would endanger a whole town like she had needed some kind of punishment, they figured. She stood there calm as you please listening to the crowd -- well, part of ém and their calls for justice. Josh was next to her as she listened to the racket and had put his hand on his Colt, just in case. She had put her hand on his arm to stop him from actually drawing his pistol and he visually relaxed some and removed his hand from the Colt.

Her long strides had brought her to the front of the crowd, where she got up on the picnic table being used as a makeshift podium and spoke. " Yáll is a might per-ticular on how to get rid of a buncha' murderers and thieves, now ain'cha? What exactly was yálls plan, by the by? I mean without getting some of 'ya all shot up," she said. "Well, remember how the crowd started mumblin'and what not? " continued Mr Stark. Nods from the crowd. " Funny thing about it. It provided plenty of work for many of the folks around there at re-building what was destroyed. And the Dog is now re-built and any profit, other than wages, goes into the citys coffers. So, I reckon we are celebratin' somethin' mighty good here today. That sure wasn't easy to see for a spell, but I reckon we may owe Mrs Becky Pearson-Hays a debt of thanks."

Applause broke out, however reluctantly in some areas of the crowd and everyone began looking around to see where Becky was. When she did not appear and was not visible to anyone, Mr Stark asked where in the world she might be this time of day. Especially since this was her day. Josh said he'd go check their newly built house just east of the Pearson spread to see if she was there. He rode off on the gray and the eating, drinking and dancing picked up with a vengeance. He was back in an hour or so and settled in next to his compadres with no comment on the whereabouts of his wife. Mr Pearson edged up through the crowd and asked Josh where Becky and their little daughter, Maggie might be. .


Josh replied, "they were back of the barn when I saw them last. As you know, that area's off limits to all of us when Becky and Maggie are out there." "Yeah. I know, Josh. I know.

 

:2thumbsup: :hurray:

 

" You think she gets it?" " Yeah. She does. She was just as confused as I was when my training with uncle Amazon began. She'll be fine. She needs to know what to expect in life and I have to tell her." The time was two AM and the gathering at the Grange Hall had broken up a few hours prior. Josh and Becky lay together in the new bed that Mr Hays had ordered for them as a house warming gift. It had been shipped all the way from Chicago by train and had been ordered specially for them. The bed was made seven feet in length to accomodate their exceptional height and was constructed of beautifully grained Red Oak with carved designs depicting vines and flowers on the headboard and footboard alike.

The house in which the bed was contained had been completed three years before by Josh, Becky, Lonnie and Karla. They all had gone east into the foothills with a couple of large wagons and the proper equipment to cut and haul enough timber back down into the valley to construct two houses side by side next to the large Oak east of the Pearsons house. Also built, was one small cabin close to and just east of the Pearsons main house. The smaller one was for the old man, although he had been very out of sorts since the beatings he and Lonnie took and the awfull way his mule had been taken from him. He stayed in his little cabin most of the time, except to go and eat with the hired hands in the new bunk house. Becky had used what money she had left from the adventures of the past summer, to purchase a small steam-driven lumber mill with some help from her pa. After their houses were finished, the four friends continued to bring timber down from the mountains and they soon had a decent business cutting the logs into dimensional lumber that was being sold and used by just about everyone in the area. There seemed to be quite a bit of new construction now that methods of irrigation were being developed. The south valley was definately a desert, but available water in the sloughs and the large Tulare lake were now being directed extensively by use of the steam- engined tractors that were able to dig canals to areas where they were wanted. Things were changing, alright.


Becky and Josh and both been attending the one room school south of Stringtown for three years now. Two days a week was sufficient, they figured, to gain some semblance of being educated. They had been around people who had been educated and realized just how uneducated they sounded. And were, for that matter. It was funny for them to see themelves sitting with the little ones at six foot six for Josh and a now six foot five Becky. The kids didn't mind at all. They figured they hadn't been really pushed on the swings in the school yard until one of the giants--as they were referred to--gave them some REAL pushes!


So the two were trying their best to educate one another and each loved catching the other if they spoke colloquially instead of properly. Easy to slip though and great fun was had by chiding the other for whom grammer had slipped a little.

"Things is --things are changin' aren't they? Josh smiled at her correction. "I mean I heard tell that soon there'll be wagons with steam engines on ém. Of course they ain't never------damnit---they won't ever replace horses. But---ya'never know. The indian wars is--are windin'down and the trains are just about everywhere now. People is---are farming areas that no one ever thought possible." "Yeah, that's true,"Josh said quietly. It shore seems a long time ago--that is, the summer of 1879 with all them---all those killin's and such. Never did find out where them damn--those," he corrected --those damned outlaws came from. Maybe they were the last a' those damn fools from Kansas that was 'sposed ta'"---she pinched him and said --"cautcha, didn't I?" They laughed quietly together and returned to the subject of Margaret Hays.

"I'm happy she got the same eyes as you do. Ain't nobody can say she ain't yours, that's for sure. And the fact that she be----I mean she's taller by a head than her friends and classmates. She's a good one, ain't she? Let's have us another one. Or two. What do 'ya say, sweetheart?" "Sure. And let's get started right now," she laughed as she placed her hand on a personal place of his that she knew would get him interested.

Outside in the dark waiting for the sun to breach the huge mountains to the east, were six Mexicans accompanied by a little fellow that knew Becky from some years before.

 

Thanks amigo! :2thumbsup:

 

Thanks Scratcho.

 

OMG!!!! :2thumbsup:

:hurray: :sunny:

I simply :love: Becky (and Josh).

 

Thanks again, folks!

 

What the fuck is a meamyhasy?????????

 

I wondered the same thing, Joel...about the meamyhasy...wtf

Another member "adjusted" his u/n with this new and improved change (I say new and improved in the same way Stephen King's Tommyknocker people were new and improved )...but I couldn't imagine why in the world you would "adjust" your u/n to that.

I hate your whole story is gone. Since everybody acts like the site will continue to undergo changes, maybe it will reappear?

I'm not holding my breath on that though.

 

Only the shadow knows who meamyhasy is...especially since you are the first poster on this page (thread) at this point in time. There are all kinds of strange stuff on the board since the conversion. Some threads that had not been posted on recently come up with just a reply box. There is no way to read what the thread is about to know how to respond. :dizzy2: :tumbleweed:

 

So the whole theme is about how we can stop terrorism better with the ownership of private property. That's a tragic ending, Scratcho.

 

I take it you didn't read the whole story. Too late now. Contact meamhasy. Evidently that's who wrote the story.

 

scratchoman@yahoo.com.--------------------

 

Really liked it. I like the dialogue. You describe everything well. I was interested throughout. Cheers man.

 

Wonderful, Scratcho. DO you write as you go right here, or do you copy from something you have written already? Are you creating here, in other words?

I do that sometimes....just create a piece of writing on the spot......

 

----------------------------------------------------

 

Looks like it all came back Scratcho. unk:

I don't know what you mean by the next pages.

 

Yes, dear, puhleez continue...this time a flash drive or something would probably be the best way to go. lol I'm kidding but I'm not.

Those of us loyal (and rather addicted) supporters of Becky and Josh...and clan, much less your talented wordsmithing surely would like to hear for them thar folks again.

They did away with most o' my smilies.

 

Alrighty then------------------------'shoulda had more faith in Skip and crew, I guess.